


If the shoe fits

by grelleswife



Series: Kuroshitsuji Underappreciated Characters Week 2020 [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Boots - Freeform, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Female Pronouns for Grell Sutcliff, Ladies in love, Trans Female Character, bisexual Grelle, lesbian Hannah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grelleswife/pseuds/grelleswife
Summary: Grelle's never met a pair of heels she couldn't master, but what about Hannah's boots, which have no heels at all? Can the reaper walk in a demon's shoes?
Relationships: Hannah Annafellows/Grell Sutcliff
Series: Kuroshitsuji Underappreciated Characters Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915006
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	If the shoe fits

**Author's Note:**

> This is a (very late) work for the free day of the Kuroshitsuji Underappreciated Characters Week. Naturally, I chose my gorgeous demon wife, Hannah. 
> 
> The oneshot is set my in shamelessly indulgent Grellefellows cottage AU.

Hannah’s eyes followed the rapid dance of needle and thread as Grelle sewed up a tear in her coat. The reaper was among the most gifted of her kind, but even she encountered the occasional mishap during soul collection. Luckily, her garnet was a competent seamstress, and Hannah kept a stock of supplies on hand for occasions like these.

Speaking of hands…Grelle’s enthralled her. Paler than marble, pale as _death_ , but with a splash of color from nails painted crimson, as if dipped in fresh blood. Nimble fingers so slender (verging on gaunt) that they almost tricked you into thinking they were fragile, but that could snap the bones in a mortal man’s body like kindling. Yet those fingers traced a delicate calligraphy across Hannah’s skin, making something deep inside her sing the same ghostly melodies that the demonness coaxed from her glass armonica. And they mended a ripped coat so neatly that Grelle might have cast an enchantment upon it.

A beautiful, tangled skein of fury and tenderness, and the myriad shades of red that lay between. That was her Grelle.

Hannah smiled at the reaper, who assiduously plied her needle in total silence. Most unusual for the loquacious deity. Generally speaking, Grelle was an irrepressible chatterbox; if the mind-numbing terrors of Armageddon had arrived at their doorstep, she would have something to say about it. She hadn’t looked up at Hannah in quite a while, either.

The demon’s voluptuous lips formed a subtle smirk.

“You’re awfully focused on your work, little one. Why so quiet?”

However, Hannah thought she could guess, given her current ensemble…

Grelle put down the coat, but her eyes remained fixed on her needlework.

“Oh, don’t worry. I—I’m not out of sorts, or anything like that…but if I let my mind wander, I might start thinking about certain _distractions_.”

The demon rested her head in her hand, glancing coyly at Grelle.

“What kind of distractions? The evening is still, and we have the cottage to ourselves.”

Grelle’s cheeks colored, and, as if drawn by a magnetic pull, her gaze flitted longingly over Hannah’s body.

“Darling, you can _not_ show that much skin in front of a poor, defenseless lady and expect her not to fall into temptation.”

Instead of her Trancy maid’s attire, Hannah had opted for an older, more revealing outfit, the same one she’d worn when Luka Macken sought an audience with her. Granted, it was an unfair move. She knew exactly how Grelle would be affected when she put her assets on display. But since the red reaper was such a tease, Hannah felt no compunction about flustering her.

“You cheerfully stabbed me with a death scythe the first time we met, _mon fleur du mal_. If you lay down your defenses, it’s usually of your own volition; you’re not easily disarmed. Neither are you averse to temptation. In fact, I get the impression that you rather enjoy it.”

The reaper brought a hand to her mouth and tittered.

“La! Guilty as charged, dear Han.”

Hannah crossed her legs, and Grelle looked thoughtfully at the demon’s boots.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…those are stunning on you, but how the hell do you walk in them, darling?” 

“Why so curious?” Hannah replied, an undercurrent of laughter in her voice. Grelle flitted from one topic to another like a feather dancing upon the breeze. Though this spontaneity had once disconcerted Hannah, she now found it refreshing. Grelle’s whimsical musings brought a welcome flourish of scarlet to the dull, lugubrious years that trudged by.

“I’ve just never worn boots like that before,” the reaper explained. “I’ve seen plenty of shoes with _high_ heels, but yours have no heel at all! Don’t your feet get sore from walking on tiptoe?”

Hannah smiled at her lover’s curiosity. “They would if I was human, and badly misshapen into the bargain. Thanks to my magic, however, I can wear them without harm. If I will it, my body does not have to endure the pains and inconveniences that are a carryover from your days as a mortal.”

Grelle abruptly set her coat to the side, and her green eyes flashed indignantly.

“Are you saying that _I_ couldn’t pull them off?” she drawled, tone sweet as honeysuckle but laden with menace like a tigress’s growl.

“I only meant that I wouldn’t recommend it, little one,” Hannah replied gently. “Even with your reflexes, you’d likely fall over—”

“I most certainly would _not_!” Grelle squawked. “I’ll prove it right now. Come here; let me give them a try.” She impatiently motioned Hannah over.

“Grelle…” the demon sighed, though she knew the goddess would worry at the issue like a dog with a bone until she’d had her way.

“Only for a minute. _Please_ , my precious, beautiful Hannah!”

“If you insist,” Hannah said with a rueful shake of her head, rising to walk over to the reaper’s chair. She couldn’t maintain her resolve when confronted by Grelle’s bewitching green eyes.

After sitting down on the floor next to Grelle, Hannah tugged off her boots and muttered a quick spell to ensure they would fit properly; otherwise, they’d be a tad too big. Since Grelle happened to be wearing a skirt, it was easy enough for her to slip them on.

“My, my, aren’t they sexy? Look how they flaunt my calves!” she declared, and this time it was Hannah’s turn to blush.

“Do you need me to help you up?” she stammered.

“ _Non, chérie_ ; I know what I’m doing,” Grelle said with a proud toss of her hair. Bracing herself against the arms of her chair, the reaper jumped up and landed on the balls of her feet. She winced and teetered forward, and Hannah rose in alarm.

“Grelle—”

But the reaper pirouetted away. “I’m _fine_ , love! The trick is to keep moving.”

Hannah quicky realized Grelle’s strategy. If the goddess stood still, she didn’t have a chance of staying upright; but she twirled and spun and pranced and ran from place to place, like a leaping flame.

“See, I told you so! Are you watching, dearest Hannah?” Grelle laughed breathlessly. The demon made no reply, transfixed by the agile legs darting to and fro, and the gleeful triumph on Grelle’s face, as if she’d gotten away with something. Wasn’t that her forte, though? From masquerading as a helpless butler right under Sebastian Michaelis’s nose to besting one of the Matriarchs of hell without breaking a sweat, Grelle had a knack for achieving what should have been beyond her reach. Of course she could wear a pair of magic boots.

Then Grelle’s toe caught on the carpet, and merriment turned to shock as her hands flew out in a vain attempt to stop her fall—

A harmless tumble would teach her caution, and death wouldn’t be hurt by a few bruises. Not for long…but it would still hurt. And far too often, there was no one to save Grelle Sutcliff when she fell.

_Damn, she’s made me sentimental_.

Hannah lunged forward, grabbed her by the forearms, and hoisted the reaper to her feet.

“I warned you this might happen. Why didn’t you listen to me?” she scolded, seized by irrational worry that was out of proportion with such a minor mishap.

Grelle blinked up at her and broke out in an unrepentant grin.

“You came to the rescue, _ma moitié_ , so all’s well that ends well!”

“Still, you should have been more careful. I wouldn’t want my garnet to shatter on the floor,” Hannah retorted.

Grelle swayed closer, her lips tantalizingly close.

“Then you’d best make sure I don’t fall, darling,” she whispered.

Hannah bestowed a quick kiss on that wintery mouth. Cold as the grave but soft as a rose petal.

“You said yourself that the trick is to keep moving…so shall we dance, my reaper?”

Grelle’s eyes flickered with the pale fire of the aurora borealis.

“Yes—let us dance!”

They spun and frolicked around the room til the walls blurred and Hannah grew dizzy, but Grelle’s smile, full of such implicit trust, remained in clear focus.

She held Grelle’s hand as tightly as she dared.

_I’ll always be here to catch you when you fall, little one_.


End file.
